


The Start of Something New

by Cassandra14



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-22 09:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20872121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassandra14/pseuds/Cassandra14
Summary: “Harry?” Macy lowered the mug.“Why not?” chimed in Maggie. “I don’t think he’d mind.”“A last-minute invite to a holiday party that’s really only an excuse to show off to investors and try to wheedle more funding out of them? I’m not looking forward to it and it’s my job.” Macy shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose on him.”Maggie gave Macy a look. “It’s not a blood sacrifice, Macy."





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m really sorry, Macy, but it’s a Kappa thing and some of the girls still don’t like me and they think I’m kinda weird so…” Maggie’s wide eyes pleaded for understanding. “And I got my dates mixed up and did I mention I was sorry?”

“Yeah, you did.” Macy sighed. She fiddled with the spoon she’d used to stir her coffee. “It’s okay, Maggie. I’m fine with going alone.”

From the kitchen table, an arm wrapped around a bent knee, Mel suggested casually, “You could always ask someone else. I mean, you said you hate this sort of things and that it would be more fun having someone there with you.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Just schmoozing with a bunch of investors, doing the whole networking thing,” replied Macy but her face scrunched as she said it. “It may not be my idea of a good time, but you know, I can do it if I have to.”

Raising her mug to her lips, she added, “Besides, it’s tonight. Who could I ask?”

With a one-shoulder shrug, Mel asked, “What about Harry?”

“Harry?” Macy lowered the mug. 

“Why not?” chimed in Maggie. “I don’t think he’d mind.”

“A last-minute invite to a holiday party that’s really only an excuse to show off to investors and try to wheedle more funding out of them? I’m not looking forward to it and it’s my job.” Macy shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose on him.”

Maggie gave Macy a look. “It’s not a blood sacrifice, Macy. Just a couple of hours of making polite small talk and playing nice with a few rich people. And while Harry will no doubt look less fabulous than I would and be less effortlessly charming, I’m sure he could at least extricate you from any conversations about golf or what car someone drives.”

“So let’s ask him,” jumped in Mel. She called, “Harry?”

One burst of space distortion later, Harry asked, “Good morning ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure? A little early demon hunting?”

Maggie blurted, “Can you go with Macy to her holiday slash kissing up to investors party tonight? I said I’d go and make sure it wasn’t too boring but I totally goofed and I’ve got this other thing so I was hoping, if you don’t have any plans, maybe you could go in my place?”

Harry blinked a few times. “Well, I -”

Macy stammered, “Don’t - you don’t - I’m sure you have something better -” 

“I’m afraid the only plans I had involved a good book and perhaps a glass of brandy. Nothing that can’t be rescheduled for a later date.” Harry interrupted with a smile. It became a little hesitant, as he added, “That is, if I’m an acceptable - though not equal of course - substitute. If you’d rather go solo -”

“If you really don’t mind…”

“I really don’t mind,” he said firmly. “When and where, and what’s the dress code?”

“It’s over at the Regal Hotel in the ballroom, starts at eight. It’s semi-formal.”

“Would you prefer to meet there or I can come here and we can drive over together?”

“Here is good,” replied Macy. 

“Seven-thirty?”

Macy nodded, “Yeah, seven-thirty is good.”

“Perfect, that’s all settled then.” Harry turned to Maggie and Mel, Maggie having drifted over to the table and sat down beside her sister. “I’m sorry to dash but unless there’s anything else, I have a stack of grading I was hoping to get done before my exam review session. Is there anything else?”

“Nope, nothing at all,” said Maggie with a bright grin. “Thanks Harry.”

His eyes returned to Macy as he said, “You’re quite welcome. Now I have something pleasant to look forward to rather it just being a day of students who think they can somehow make up for a semester of not studying in one week.” 

He bobbed his head. “Have a good day, ladies, and I’ll see you this evening.” 

With a snap, he vanished. 

“See, problem solved,” declared Mel. 

* * *

Clad in a terry cloth robe, Maggie handed Macy the eyeliner pen. She closed her eyes and leaned forward from her perch on the bed. “Now you do me.” 

“Hold still.” Sitting on the vanity’s chair, Macy cupped Maggie’s chin in her left hand. With her right, she traced the curve of her sister’s right eyelid. “Just top or bottom too?”

“Halfway on the bottom please,” replied Maggie. 

Macy hummed acknowledgement. She started the bottom line thicker at the outside corner, then thinned it out until it disappeared at the middle. 

“Is that okay?” she asked. 

Leaning a little to the side to see around Macy, Maggie checked the vanity mirror. “Looks perfect, sis.”

“Good. Let me do the other one and then mascara.”

Maggie straightened and sat patiently as Macy did the other eye. Then Macy reached for the bulbous tube of mascara. She directed, “Look up.”

Maggie did and Macy carefully brushed the wand through the lashes. 

“All done,” said Macy. Maggie slid off the bed, skirting around Macy to examine herself in the mirror. 

“Nice,” Maggie said. She adjusted a couple of her curls. “I think that’s me finished make-up wise. What about you?”

Macy nudged Maggie out of the way. She scrutinized herself in the mirror. “I think I’m good.”

“And the hair’s okay?” asked Maggie. 

“It’s great,” replied Macy. Maggie had plaited several strands and intertwined them into an elegant knot. “I love it.”

“Good, cause it’s almost seven-thirty.” Maggie seized her sister’s hands and levered Macy to her feet. “Spin, please.”

Macy revolved, her emerald skirt swishing. “What do you think?”

“Well, you don’t need a necklace,” remarked Maggie, gesturing at the golden one-shouldered bodice of the dress. “But maybe earrings? Something dangly?”

Reaching for her jewelry box, Macy nodded. She fished out a pair of chandelier earrings, gold lacework with three tiny drop emeralds to match her dress. 

Maggie smiled approval. She added, “I’ve got a gold cuff - let me go get it.”

She bustled out of the room. By the time she’d found the cuff and returned, Macy had slipped into a pair of black heels and had collected her slightly shimmery black clutch. 

“Arm please,” said Maggie. Macy held out her left wrist. After Maggie slid the bracelet on, she ran her fingers over the engraved roses. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“What are sisters for?” asked Maggie rhetorically. 

A shout rang out from downstairs. “Harry’s here!”

“Oh! Just in time!” Maggie said. “You look amazing, Macy. You’re going to wow everyone there.” 

“Thanks.” Macy plucked her phone from the nightstand and slotted it into her purse. “Shouldn’t you go finish getting ready?”

Maggie waved off her concerns. “I’ve got like another half hour and all I’ve got to do is throw on my dress.” 

She linked arms with Macy. Teasingly, she added, “Also, I want to make sure Harry isn’t wearing one of those ghastly Christmas sweaters.”

“I’m sure he’s not,” said Macy, a touch defensively. “Besides I like the sweaters - they’re kind of sweet.”

Maggie grinned at her. “Yeah, they kind of are.” 

The pair descended the stairs to find Harry and Mel by the living room fireplace, Mel gesticulating as Harry listened. 

“- because apparently, I violated some sort of taboo by wearing red and so I get to come back in three days,” Mel ranted. “Seriously, what’s up with that?”

“Sprites define themselves by the element over which they have power,” said Harry. “Red represents fire which can be harmful to water sprites like the clan you were meeting with. Didn’t you read the pages of _A Study of Sprites: Customs and Culture_ that I’d marked for you?”

Flushing, Mel admitted, “No, I didn’t.”

Harry made his why-do-I-even-try face. 

“I’ll read it before I go back again, I promise,” said Mel. 

“Please.” As Maggie and Mel approached, he turned towards them. His face immediately morphed from exasperation into open admiration. “You look lovely, Macy.”

“Thank you.” Macy felt her cheeks warm. She took in his attire. He had on his navy coat, unbuttoned due to being inside. Underneath, he wore a dark grey suit, a v-neck sweater, and a crisp white button-down with the top button left undone. 

Her chest fluttered when she realized the sweater was only a couple of shades deeper than her dress. She tried to tell herself that it was a Christmas party which meant lots of green and red but, at the same time, it seemed a very Harry thing to do. 

“You look nice too,” she said. 

“One tries,” he replied with a little quarter-bow. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Addressing Maggie and Mel, she said, “If something comes up -”

“We’ll call for Harry,” finished Mel. 

“You two should try to have some fun,” added Maggie, touching each of them on the arm. “Now, you’d better get going or you’ll be late, and I’ve got to go finish getting ready for Kappa so go on!”

She shooed them towards the entryway. 

“We’re going, we’re going,” protested Macy, smiling. A step ahead of her, Harry extracted her coat from the closet and Macy allowed him to help her into it. They both pulled gloves out of pockets, hers dove-grey suede and Harry’s chocolate brown. He tugged them on, fingers and wrists flexing. 

“Macy?” 

Macy twitched and refocused. “What, sorry?”

“A scarf?” he repeated. “The wind’s picked up a bit.”

“Oh, yes, that’s probably a good idea.” She stuck her head into the coat closet and rummaged in the basket of scarves. Alighting upon a finely woven black one, she looped it twice around her neck and tucked it into her coat. 

She suppressed the instinct to grab a second one for Harry. Scarves - and ties - had vanished from his wardrobe except when he deemed it too disrespectful not to wear one and then he usually did away with it as soon as he could. 

Instead, she deliberately smiled at Harry in an effort to not get caught up in unpleasant memories. She said, “Good to go.”

Over her shoulder, she called, “I’ll be back around eleven.”

“Got it,” called back Mel. “I’ll be at work until one, and I’ll drop Maggie off on my way in.”

“Thanks!” shouted Maggie, footsteps on the stairs. “I’ll be ready in a sec.”

Macy caught Harry’s eye and they both scoffed. As they exited the house, Macy asked, “Twenty minutes?”

“At least,” he replied. 

Careful of her footing, Macy hastened towards the silver SUV parked in the driveway. She murmured a thank you to Harry when he opened the passenger door for her to climb inside and she sighed at the relative warmth inside, the car not having sat empty for long enough to lose all heat to the December night. 

As soon as Harry had started the engine, she flicked on the seat warmers. 

“I’ve the directions queued up,” Harry said, offering her his phone. “If you don’t mind?”

“Sure.” She accepted the phone and scrolled through the first few turns. “Go down to Innsbruck, and then take a left on Melk, and right on Commerce.”

Harry nodded, backing out of the drive. 

The blinker was flashing for Commerce when Macy broke the quiet. “I’ve been wondering. Is it weird, seeing technology change so fast and having to adapt?”

“A little. It does have its advantages though,” Harry said. “How easy it makes communication between the four of us, having encyclopedias at your fingertips - it’s quite astonishing the difference it makes.”

“I guess it would but aren’t there spells or something that could come close? I think I remember seeing something in the Book of Shadows.” 

“There were and are, but nothing as easy and accessible. Most communication spells are limited either by duration, distance, or contacts, or some combination of those three.” Harry pointed to his phone. “Even the most basic cell phone and plan compares favorably to the magical alternatives.”

“So no one uses magic mirrors anymore?”

“Some beings do. For some races, their particular brand of magic doesn’t react well to technology or technology to their magic,” said Harry. “How long are we on Commerce for?”

“About six miles,” replied Macy. 

“Will I get to meet the rest of your team tonight?” Harry asked. 

“Almost, Sofia took off two whole weeks so she could fly back to Belgium and spend the holidays with her family.” Macy started ticking off people on her fingers. “Jo was going to come but her kids are sick. Then there’s Angela - who you’ve met -”

“Biochemist, really into - ah what was it - roller derby?”

“Yes, that’s her,” said Macy, staring at him. “Kareena will be there too.”

“She’s working on something to do with errors in protein synthesis?” Harry ventured. “I’m afraid most of what she was saying went straight over my head.”

Macy said, “That’s okay. I can’t believe you remember even that much. About either of them. You only met them once.”

“They’re your team,” Harry said as if that was explanation enough. “There’s still a couple more, correct? George and Alice?”

Macy mhmed. “They’ll both be there.”

“Alice is the big Doctor Who fan, and George is the one who singed his own eyebrows off?”

“That’s them,” Macy confirmed. “They’ve almost grown back all the way. I’m just grateful it happened at home and not at the lab. Do you know how much paperwork I would have had to fill out for an accident like that?”

“Too much?” Harry guessed teasingly. 

“Way too much,” said Macy, miming a foot tall stack. “Thank god he was an idiot on his own time.”

Harry chuckled and then asked, “Apart from your team, who and what else should I know?”

Macy dug her phone out of her purse to consult the emailed guest list. For the rest of the drive, she alternated between their phones, interspersing directions amongst a briefing about ongoing projects, prospective and current investors, and other personnel from either Hilltowne Genetics Department or Morningstar Biotech. 

Harry occasionally interrupted, requesting further explanation of this concept or that theory. A couple of times, his questions suggested that he'd actually read her papers albeit with a layman’s understanding, something neither of her sisters had managed.

The thought warmed her, but also made her chest tighten. 

When they reached the hotel, Harry pulled into the valet lane. Two attendants scurried out from the kiosk. 

“Checking in or dining here?” asked the one who’d gone to the driver’s side. Climbing out, Harry cocked his head towards her. 

“Morningstar Biotech,” Macy informed the pair as her door was opened. “Dr. Macy Vaughn and guest.” 

“Dr. Vaughn, of course. The Grand Ballroom will be past reception, down the hall, to the right,” her valet recovered quickly. 

“Thank you,” Macy replied sweetly, a little pointedly so. Harry’s eyes danced as he rounded the SUV, tucking the valet ticket into an inside coat pocket. 

It was second nature to slip her hand into the offered crook of his arm. They ascended the stairs, passing through gilded glass doors, and into the welcome heat of the lobby. 

Macy took a moment to look about, never having been to this hotel before. Decidedly elegant, it boosted marble reception counters with a concierge desk to one side, vaguely art deco carpets, and sleek vases of single orchids accenting the gold, black, and white color scheme. 

“This way, I think,” she said, tugging gently on Harry’s arm. 

They located the ballroom and turned their outerwear over to the coat check at the entrance. Macy tucked her arm back into Harry’s and surveyed the room.

It wasn’t overly Christmas-y, more winter wonderland with bright bursts of red, green, and gold. No one was yet on the dance floor, and only a few of the conversational couch arrangements had been claimed. Most people were milling about, drinks and plates of small bites in hand, or were clustered around the high tables. 

“Dr. Vaughn!” called a man wearing a candy cane-striped tie called, turning from his party. 

“Here we go,” Macy muttered to Harry before she plastered on a smile for the incoming investor. “Mr. Windham, how nice to see you again.” 

About an hour and a quarter later, Macy reflected that the evening was going better than she’d expected. It helped that she, after making the rounds, was now tucked away in a corner with the rest of her team, their guests, and Harry. 

She’d invited Maggie, intending to lean on her sister to be gay and effervescently charming since her own introvert tendencies made this sort of socializing wearying. While Harry tended towards introversion himself, he still a way with people which lightened the burden on her. 

He’d remembered names and more than one investor had looked flattered that they’d been important enough have been talked about. He’d used his introductions to ask about people’s interests, giving Macy a perfect opening to jump in and expound upon whichever project suited that interest.

On the occasions where the investor’s partner was clearly uninterested, Harry would pull him or her slightly aside. With their partner engaged in conversation with Harry, Macy had been able to discuss details and nuances that might have otherwise been cut short. 

With her coworkers, Harry would prompt them about their work, asking follow-up questions to encourage them. Macy had watched her coworkers grow increasingly animated as they spoke about their passions, some losing the shyness they’d had before. Social sciences or not, many of them sensed a fellow intellectual and warmed quickly to him. 

Her own team was no different and she grinned as they scolded Harry for not having seen any of the MCU movies. 

“What sort of sci-fi/fantasy do you like?” demanded Angela. “What’s your favorite?”

“On screen?” Harry clarified. Angela nodded. “While I’m partial to the _Next Generation_, I must admit _Babylon _5 is my favorite.”

“Sinclair or Sheridan?” piped up Alice. 

“Sinclair, but I would pick Delenn above either,” Harry replied. 

“Wise choice,” said Kareena. She poked Raphael, her boyfriend. “I’m still trying to convince this one to watch it.”

“It’s a little rough getting started,” Angela told Raphael. “But you have to watch it from the beginning and if you stick with it, it’s so worth it.” 

“Alright, alright, next weekend, I promise,” said Raphael, raising his hands in surrender. Kareena smiled and snuggled up to him happily. 

“That should be our next series,” Macy said to Harry, “Once we finish _Leverage_.”

“Oh god, _Leverage _is the best,” exclaimed Alice. “Where are you at?”

“Season three,” said Macy. “My sister, Maggie, introduced us to it. The three of us, and Harry, we’re working our way through it.” 

Alice clapped her hands excitedly. “Let me know when you finish. The finale - oh - I can’t wait to hear what you think.”

“I will,” Macy promised. She glanced up as George and his date, whose name was Ira, returned from the dance floor. 

“Do you mind?” asked Ira, gesturing at the lounge Macy was sharing with Harry. 

Macy scooted over a few inches to clear enough space for Ira to sit while George perched on the arm. Her right shoulder pressed against Harry’s, the slight connection momentarily the focal point of her attention. She shook herself and refocused on the conversation. 

“Wanna know about what I just saw?” mock-whispered George, leaning in conspiratorially. “It’s about our favorite sales rep.”

The team groaned in unison. Harry and Raphael looked curious. 

“Let’s not spoil the evening,” said Kareena. 

“You’ll like this,” George assured her. 

When Angela waved for him to proceed, he continued, “So we were over by the bar and Mr. I Have a Marketing Degree from _Harvard_ and I Drive a BMW was chatting up this lady - no idea who she is - and she tells him flat out to go away. Being him -”

“Let me guess he doesn’t? What a shocker,” sneered Angela. 

“- being him, he keeps at it. The woman gets her drink, red wine, and then, very calmly pours the entire glass on his bespoke-is-the-only-way-to-go suit,” George finished. “And she just walked away. He was speechless; it was so awesome.”

“Please tell me you have photos,” Macy said. 

Pulling out his phone, George tapped briskly. “There, sent to the group email.” 

There was a moment of silence as they all checked their inboxes and opened up the email. Macy angled her phone so Harry could see. 

“Well-deserved karma?” he asked in an undertone. 

“I considered turning Mel loose on him.” A beat later, Macy added, “No magic, just Mel.”

“Your sister is quite scary enough _without_ magic,” Harry said with feeling. 

Macy grinned at him. “She definitely is.” 

“Dr. Vaughn?” A dark-haired man came up behind the lounge. “I was hoping I could claim that dance.”

“Ah, I, yes, that’s fine,” stuttered Macy, frantically trying to remember his name. They’d spoken earlier that evening, and she’d taken his ‘Maybe I’ll catch you for a dance later’ as a throwaway parting line and had answered with a vague ‘sure.’ 

She stood and brushed out her skirt. “It’s Brad, isn’t it?”

“Bryan, but close enough.” Bryan offered his hand. With a glance at Harry - who simply smiled and then asked Ira about her decision to go into family law - Macy allowed Bryan to escort her to the dance floor. 

He was a decent partner, but Macy had no regrets when the song ended. However, having danced, Macy found her hand solicited for more dances, sometimes investors and sometimes coworkers. 

Two dances in, a flare of scarlet caught her eye. She looked over to see Harry catching Angela as she finished a twirl. After that, he changed partners with every song as she did, including both Alice and Kareena. 

“Thank you for the dance,” Macy repeated for the ninth time as she stepped off the floor with Elias, her current partner. 

“The pleasure was mine. Maybe another?” Elias asked hopefully. 

“Sorry, I need a break.” Macy scanned the vicinity. “But I think Clara’s looking for a partner.” 

She nodded towards a blonde woman in a forest green halter. 

“I’ll go see,” said Elias. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” mumbled Macy as he darted away. She collected a glass of ice water from the closest catering booth and sipped it while watching the dancers. She located Harry nearby, paired with one of the lab techs from biomaterials. 

He was facing away from her, but Macy could see his partner’s face. The technician - Gail she thought maybe - mouthed one, two, three, one, two, three. She kept looking at her feet. 

Harry must have said something, because Gail lifted her head and nodded. 

Sticking to the basic box step, Harry repeated the pattern over and over. Little by little, Gail relaxed. Her grip on Harry’s shoulder loosened and her steps stopped stuttering. 

By the end of the song, she was smiling brightly. 

Macy watched them part, Harry seeing Gail back to a cluster of young women. He looked around, spied her, and threaded through the crowd to join her. 

“I didn’t realize you liked dancing,” Macy said. 

“I do, yes. I don’t have the opportunity as much as I would like,” replied Harry. “Particularly not this sort of dancing.”

“Not into club dancing?” teased Macy, picturing Harry in a typical nightclub with strobe lights and masses of people flinging themselves about. In her mental image, he wore the exact same expression as he had when a demon had vomited neon orange slime all over him a couple of months ago. 

“Definitely not,” he said firmly, with a violent twitch of disgust. 

“Club dancing can be fun when you want to let off steam - I used to go out every once in a while with a few girlfriends in college,” Macy said. “But it’s not really my thing either.” 

“And this?” Harry tipped his head towards the dance floor. A jazzy version of White Christmas was playing, with some couples dancing a credible if restrained swing while others just moved in time with the music. 

“Closer,” admitted Macy. 

“Would you be willing to take a turn with me then?” Harry asked. 

Macy hesitated for a moment before reminding herself that this was Harry and he knew they were here as friends. 

“Sure, why not,” she replied, placing her hand in his. 

From watching him with Gail, she’d expected Harry to be a good partner. Macy rapidly revised it to excellent once they started moving, Harry applying just the right amount of gentle pressure to indicate where he wanted her to go. She didn’t even have to think about the steps but was able to relax and let him lead her through turns and twirls. 

Abruptly, he pulled hard on their connected hands, gathering her in close. 

“What -”

“Sorry,” he murmured, keeping her in for a breath before re-establishing a few inches of space between them. He nodded at something over her left shoulder. “I’m afraid some people have taken advantage of the open bar.”

Macy followed his gaze, espying a rather tipsy couple moving away from them. Based on their trajectory, they would have run into her if not for Harry’s quick action. 

“Oh, yes, looks like it,” Macy managed to reply. She squashed the little voice in her head that was proclaiming how much it had liked being held close with a side comment on how good Harry’s cologne smelled. 

Harry didn’t appear to notice her distraction. He asked, “What do you think about Maggie’s plan to throw a New Year’s party?”

Macy latched onto the topic, and they chatted about Maggie’s scheme to invite various members of the magical community to the house for the remainder of the dance. They concluded that it was first, likely to be a smashing success in growing friendships and alliances because it was Maggie but also, secondly, likely to verge on chaos and would mean the two of them would spend the night making sure nothing went too far awry. They didn’t need a repeat of the dwarf-leprechaun incident that had involved too much ale and a disturbing amount of glitter.

As they were leaving the dance floor, a tall man of about seventy approached them, a lady of about his age at his side. 

He asked, “Dr. Vaughn, would you have a few minutes? I had some more questions about the gene therapy you mentioned, about the possibilities for neurological disorders?” 

“Mr. Montgomery, of course,” said Macy. 

Turning to the woman by him, Mr. Montgomery said, “I promise not to take too long, Gretchen.”

Gretchen patted his arm with an indulgent smile. “If you say so, dear. Take all the time you need.”

“If you’d like, we could go dance and leave them to it,” offered Harry, applying to Gretchen. 

“Excellent idea,” Gretchen agreed. “We’ll see you in a bit.” She took his arm and they strolled away. 

Several minutes and a condensed lecture by Macy later, Gretchen rejoined her husband and Macy.

When she saw Macy’s inquiring look, Gretchen explained, “He’s getting me a drink. Such a nice young gentleman, you don’t find many like that anymore. You should hold onto him.”

“Ah - we’re just friends, Mrs. Montgomery. Good friends.”

“Yes, he mentioned that,” replied Gretchen with a knowing glimmer in her eyes. “But you know, in my experience -” She looked at her husband who gazed back, his entire demeanor softening. “- Friendship is a rather good foundation.”

Macy was saved from responding by Harry’s return. 

“Decaf, two sugars, and a dash of creamer,” he said, handing a china cup and saucer to Gretchen. 

“Thank you.” Tasting it, Gretchen hummed then said, “Perfect. Exactly how I like it.”

“You’re welcome,” said Harry. 

“Did the two of you cover everything?” Gretchen asked her husband. 

“I think so,” he said. 

“Just let me know when you’d like to have that tour and I’ll get it arranged,” said Macy. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “I’m afraid we do have to get going. We’re driving out to spend Christmas with our kids and grandkids tomorrow.”

“How nice,” said Harry. “You must be excited.”

“We are,” said Gretchen. She sipped her coffee as she continued, “We haven’t seen them in a couple of months, and the baby’s at that stage where they seem to grow up in leaps and bounds. We'll be getting an early start since it’s an eight-hour drive.”

She drained the cup. “So we really have to head out. It was lovely to meet the two of you and have a Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” said Macy while Harry replied with, “Happy Christmas.”

The couple walked off, Gretchen depositing the now-empty cup on a passing waiter’s tray. 

Fatigue washed over Macy. Her feet twinged faintly, and she had to work to keep her shoulders from slumping. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to be in her pyjamas, rereading _Emperor Mage_ for the umpteenth time. 

“I think I’m ready to go too,” she told Harry. 

He suggested, “Why don’t I get our coats and have the car pulled round while you say your goodbyes?”

“Yes, please.” Macy located her coat check and passed it to him. They split, Harry towards the entrance and Macy towards a clutch of other lab managers. 

Doing a circlet, Macy ended up at the corner her team had claimed earlier. Everyone except Alice and Angela had already gone, the two women lounging with their feet up. 

“Leaving?” asked Angela. 

Macy nodded. “What about you two? Do you have rides home?”

She felt a little silly asking Angela as Angela was almost six years older than her. But she was their supervisor and Alice was only twenty-four. 

“I took an Uber,” said Alice. 

“I drove and I’ve stuck to water for the last hour,” Angela said. To Alice, she offered, “Why don’t I give you a ride home?”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother -” 

With a flick of a wrist, Angela interrupted, “You live like five minutes out of my way, ten at most. It’s no trouble.”

“Okay, thanks.” 

Coat already donned, Harry joined them with Macy’s coat and scarf draped over an arm. He gave her the scarf first. 

“It was good to see you again, Harry,” Angela told him as Macy wrapped the scarf about her neck. 

“You as well, and it was wonderful to meet you, Alice,” replied Harry. He held up Macy’s coat for her to slip into. 

“It was nice meeting you too,” said Alice.

Macy finished buttoning her coat. “I’ll see you two Monday. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, drive safe,” said Angela. Alice and Harry echoed with simply, “Goodnight.”

Macy and Harry were able to escape the ballroom without being accosted by anyone, and Macy sighed in relief when they’d gotten back to the hotel lobby. 

The valet had the SUV waiting. As she clambered in, Macy asked, “Do you want me to navigate?”

Harry shook his head and tapped the Bluetooth icon on the dashboard screen to connect his phone. “I remember most of it, and I’ll have Google for the rest.”

Surreptitiously toeing off her heels, Macy nodded. She let her head fall back against the headrest. 

Directions loaded, Harry fiddled with his phone for a few more seconds. Music began playing, something soft with violin and piano.

It wasn’t the sort of music Macy usually preferred - she liked having lyrics - but it was pleasant background for the drive home. The playlist focused on piano with the occasional violin, woodwind, or harp for accompaniment, all sweetly melodic and mellow. 

She drifted, watching the streetlights pass. 

Pulling into her driveway was almost a surprise. 

Hastily shoving her feet into her shoes, she grabbed for her purse. Harry got out as she did, and she waited for him to come round to her side. 

Together, they walked up the path. Macy said apologetically, “Sorry for spacing out on the way home.”

“It’s alright,” Harry assured her. They negotiated the steps. “I don’t mind the quiet. Actually could do with a bit more of it sometimes.”

He gave her a rueful smile. Catching what he was thinking, Macy said, “Yeah, I bet. I love my sisters and I love being a witch but it is sometimes a little…”

“Intense?” suggested Harry. 

“Let’s go with that.” Macy unlocked the door but paused before opening it. Turning to face him, she said, “Thank you for coming with me. It helped. I had a better time than I expected.”

“You’re welcome and I’m glad. I enjoyed meeting the rest of your team, and overall, I had a good time,” Harry said. 

“You did? Good, that’s good.” A part of her wanted to invite him inside, imagining a fire and hot cocoa. The rest of her clamored for bath, book, and bed, alone and in that order. 

Before she could decide, Harry said, “Goodnight, Macy.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” she replied. She watched him retrace his steps to the car. 

As he pulled out, she waved before going inside. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Dr. Vaughn, I’ve been hoping to run into you.” 

Macy glanced up from her lunch as a woman halted by her table, tray burdened with broccoli alfredo, side salad, and coffee cup. The anemic January sun highlighted the blue streak in her dark hair. 

“Dr. Fukuhara, hello,” said Macy, a little startled.

“May I sit with you?” the other woman asked. “And it’s Naori please.”

“Macy, and yes, of course.” 

“Thanks.” Naori took the opposite booth seat. “I have to say, I’m rather jealous of your lunch. The food here is good, but yours looks better. Did you make it yourself? What is it?”

“It’s coconut curry chicken and sort of? It’s not my recipe but I helped make it,” replied Macy. 

“You’d think a biochemist would be a good cook, but I’m only average at best,” said Naori. “And so often it doesn’t feel like it’s worth the trouble for just me.”

Macy hmmed an acknowledgment as she skewered a carrot. They each took a few bites of food. 

Eventually, Macy’s curiosity prompted her to ask, “Was there any particular reason you wanted to run into me? Not that it’s not nice to - it just sounded like -”

“I did.” Naori dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “I would really like to get to know you better, but I admit I have an ulterior motive, for today anyways.”

“That’s okay.”

“Thanks. The man you brought to the Christmas party - Harry wasn’t it? - you came as friends, right? There’s nothing romantic between the two of you?”

“Ah - yes - we’re friends, good friends but that’s it. Nothing more,” Macy stammered. 

“He’s not married? Not seeing anyone? Girlfriend?” Naori raised an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

“No, um, not that I know of,” Macy said, stabbing randomly into her Tupperware. It took her three tries to land a piece of chicken. “Definitely not married, and I think, I think he would have told me - us, told us - if he was seeing someone.” 

She jammed the chicken into her mouth, partly to force herself to stop talking. 

Naori inhaled sharply, then said, “In that case, would you be willing to give him my number and ask him to give me a call, if he’s interested?”

Macy swallowed. Dazedly, she repeated, “Give him your number? Harry?”

“Yes. I know it might be a bit awkward, but I didn’t have the chance at the party and…” Naori shrugged one shoulder. “I figure why not? He seemed so sweet and I really enjoyed talking to him. Plus, he’s cute in librarian-ish sort of way.” 

Pausing, Naori cocked her head. “Unless you know for sure he wouldn’t be interested? The wrong gender maybe?”

“No, Harry’s straight. As far as I know.” Macy stirred her rice, momentarily distracted by the idea. “I’ve never asked and based on previous - I guess he could be bi...”

She yanked her thoughts back to the topic at hand. She stated, “I don’t know that he _wouldn’t _be interested.”

Internally, she was now thinking about the fact that, oh by the way, Harry was a Whitelighter who’d died in the fifties and magic is real and so are witches which includes her and her sisters and they hunted demons and did Whitelighters date normals? 

“Good, then you’d be okay with giving him my number?” Naori pulled a business card from her suit jacket’s pocket. She assured Macy, “If nothing comes of it, I would completely understand, and I certainly don’t expect you to play matchmaker. Just pass this along and let him know _I’m_ interested and see where it goes. I would really appreciate it.”

Naori slid the card across the table. Underneath the work phone, she had scrawled a second number in green ink. Only then did her confident aura waver, her smile turning nervous and hands cradling her coffee cup. 

Macy couldn’t deny her. Picking up the card, she said slowly, “Okay, I’ll do it. I can’t promise anything.”

“Of course not. Thank you.” Poise recovered and smiling freely, Naori took up her fork. “Now that that’s out of the way, how are this semester’s interns working out so far in your lab?”

With relief, Macy seized on the topic. For the rest of lunch, they talked about their work and swapped grad school stories, allowing Macy to temporarily forget about the little white card in her purse. 

* * *

Macy thumbed the pause button at the double-knock on her bedroom door. 

“Yes?” she called. 

Maggie poked her head into the room. “Can we come in?”

Straightening from her sprawl, Macy tucked pillows behind her back so she could sit up against them. “Yes, what’s up?”

Her sisters filed in. Maggie climbed onto the bed to sit cross-legged to her left while Mel perched on the edge to her right. 

“We wanted to ask if there was anything bothering you,” declared Mel. “You were really quiet at dinner.”

“And not your usual I’m-mentally-running-through-lab-data quiet,” Maggie added. “More broody.”

“I’m fine, there’s nothing wrong.”

Maggie and Mel exchanged a look. Grabbing Macy’s tablet, Maggie held it up and demanded, “Then why are you watching _Angel’s Vice_?”

Macy attempted to snatch the tablet from her sister, but Maggie tossed it on the bed behind herself. Scowling at Maggie, Macy folded her arms. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she protested. 

“Yeah, okay, you need to either learn to lie better or start telling us what’s bugging you,” said Mel. 

“We’re your sisters, Macy, we want to help and we can’t unless you tell us,” Maggie said. She patted Macy’s leg which was covered in a knitted blue blanket. 

For a minute, Macy tried to glare them into submission but both her sisters merely regarded her levelly and waited. 

“Fine. You remember when I took Harry to that company party before Christmas?”

They nodded. Maggie said, “You told us it went well.”

“It did. We had a nice time and Harry met a lot of the people I work with.” Macy took a breath and unfolded her arms. She plucked at a stray thread in the blanket. “One of them came up to me today and asked if I could give him her number.”

Maggie blinked in surprise while Mel gaped. 

“Give him her number as in…” Maggie trailed off, hands fluttering. 

“As in, she thought he was cute and sweet and she wants to go out with him, yes,” said Macy in a rush. 

“Oh. Okay,” was Maggie’s response. She appeared to be mulling it over. 

Mel closed and opened her mouth a couple of times before speaking. “Is she a nice person?”

“What?” asked Macy, her head swiveling to face Mel. 

Mel ahemmed and asked, “What’s she like?”

“She has a PhD in Biochemistry and she works in the pharmaceutical division. I don’t know a whole lot about her, we’ve only spoken a few times and we only had lunch today, but - um - she seems nice, she runs marathons for charity I think, I haven’t heard anything bad about her,” babbled Macy. 

“Probably not evil?” asked Mel with a quirk to her lips. 

“Probably,” said Macy. “Although…”

“Probably is probably good enough to start off with,” interjected Maggie. “And we can’t start thinking anyone who wants to get to know one of us is automatically a demon. We’d _never_ start any new relationships, which would be a sucky way to live.” 

Mel asked, “So if she’s a nice person and not obviously a demon, is there any reason not to give Harry her number?” 

Macy yanked on a stray thread. “I don’t know - I mean - when she asked me, I said yes - I took her card - I kept thinking - she has no idea _who_ he is. She’s - and he’s a Whitelighter and - it - could it even go anywhere?”

Laying her hand over Macy’s, Mel waited until her sister meet her eyes. “Don’t you think that’s something for Harry to decide?”

Gently, Maggie added, “He didn’t tell the Council about Galvin.”

“And he offered to help convince them to let me tell Niko,” said Mel. 

“You never told us that,” Macy said.

“It was after that Halloween party, the one the Harbinger crashed,” Mel said. “He wanted to wait until after we’d dealt with the Source, but yeah, he was okay with Niko knowing eventually.”

“So it would be kind of hypocritical of us to decide that because he’s a Whitelighter, that means no dating normals,” Maggie stated, still gently. 

“I know that and I didn’t - I didn’t mean it that way,” Macy protested. “I just - Naori really - I was worried. For her. And for Harry.”

“I’m sure Harry wouldn’t start off the date by orbing in,” Maggie said, tone teasing and smiling to lighten the mood. “He’d at least hold off on the whole I-died-in-the-fifties-and-was-resurrected-magic-is-real until the main course.”

“Oh, at least,” agreed Mel. “Maybe he’d wait until dessert so she could have something sweet to counter her world turning upside down.” 

Macy rolled her eyes at their antics. 

“Seriously though, Harry wouldn’t do anything that would risk exposing us, not unless he was sure he could trust whoever he was telling,” said Maggie. She flipped her hair back. “They could go out, decide there’s no spark, and that’s that. But you never know, and I think we’d all agree that Harry deserves the same chance of finding love as the rest of us.”

“Especially after that -” Mel growled instead of saying the name. “It wouldn’t be fair to stand in the way.”

“You’re right, of course,” said Macy. 

Maggie cleared her throat. “Unless..”

“Unless?” prompted Macy.

“Unless you had a different reason for not wanting to give him that number. Or any number for that matter,” Maggie said loftily. 

Macy demanded, “What are you talking about?” but her stomach clenched. 

“Just that maybe you don’t want Harry dating someone else, because you want him dating you,” finished Maggie. 

“That’s absurd. We’re just friends,” Macy protested. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yeah, the friends part I’ll give you,” said Mel. “The ‘nothing going on’, no.” 

Mel pointed at Maggie, then herself. “We’ve both seen it, Macy. The two of you, there’s definitely something besides purely platonic friendship there.” 

Maggie took Macy’s left hand and said softly, “I’m pretty sure that Harry is at least a little bit in love with you, and I’m also pretty sure the feeling isn’t completely one-sided.”

Macy tugged her hand free. Her eyes on the duvet, she admitted, “You’re right about - I do have some sort of feelings for Harry but - I’m not sure - and, the way he feels, it wouldn’t be fair if I’m not.”

She clenched her fist and wrapped her arm tightly about her waist. “It just wouldn’t be fair. I won’t do that to him.”

“Okay, woah, back up, what do you mean ‘the way he feels’?” asked Maggie. “Has he told you? I mean one, why didn’t you tell us, and two, what did he say?”

Macy shook her head, the familiar bitter-sour flavor of guilt rising to choke her. It was the way she always felt when thinking about her time as the Source. 

Reluctantly, she confessed, “He didn’t tell me. I... when I had the Source’s power, he was trying to comfort me and he put his hand on my knee and I - I read it, how he felt about me. He didn’t realize that I could do that so and I didn’t warn him - I never should have known.”

Squeezing Macy’s hand, Maggie began, “Macy, it’s not -”

“Please don’t say it’s not my fault,” Macy interrupted her sister. 

“I know up here -” she gestured to her head, “-that I didn’t mean to do it, that there were all sorts of extraordinary circumstances to make it understandable but it still feels wrong. I took something from him, something I had no right to, something that should have been his decision to share or not.”

Her breath shuddered. Macy licked her lips and pressed on. “So I promised myself I wouldn’t let the fact that I know he loves me change anything. Because I couldn’t return those feelings, not like that, not then, and Galvin -” Macy’s voice cracked.

She looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds and then down. “And I had to make sure I didn’t, didn’t take advantage of him, use what I knew to - accidentally or -”

“You didn’t want to emotionally manipulate him, unintentionally or otherwise,” finished Mel. She pried the hand Maggie wasn’t gripping from Macy’s waist and hung on. 

“Yes,” whispered Macy hoarsely. 

“You were doing the right thing,” Mel assured her. 

“Did the two of you ever talk about it?” asked Maggie. 

“We agreed to pretend it didn’t happen,” said Macy. “Since then, if I hadn’t known...Harry hasn’t acted any differently towards me. I’ve never felt _any_ sort of pressure from him, nothing. We’re friends and I think - I know - both of us value that friendship and that’s been plenty. But now…I do feel something but - I won’t lead him on if - if it’s only a crush - and I won’t risk our friendship.”

“Macy, could I propose something?” Mel asked. She waited for Macy’s nod. “You said you’ve been trying not to hurt Harry, and like I said, that was a good thing for you to do. You’re right, he didn’t have a choice as to whether or not he wanted you to know, or even if he was ready himself to deal with it, and you were right to tread carefully. But I do think that, maybe, now you should take a step back and, setting Harry’s feelings aside, ask yourself what you feel.”

“Mel’s right,” chimed in Maggie. “If you’d never read anything from him, if we asked you right now, if you have romantic feelings for Harry, what would you say?”

Macy’s mind churned. She thought back over the past few months, especially the last two or three, recognizing moments here and there. Nothing grand or earthshaking - the odd desire to learn if his hair would really feel nice if she ran her fingers through it, envying Maggie when she nodded off on Harry’s shoulder one movie night, conspiring with Harry to drive her sisters insane by punning the entire day, the two of them baking tray after tray of Christmas cookies because they felt like it and then fostering the cookies onto their colleagues and students. 

“Maybe...it doesn’t...it’s not the same as it was with Galvin,” Macy said. 

Her relationship with Galvin had been like walking around a theme park: new and exciting with so much to explore, to try, always wondering what was coming next. There had been anxiety, but there had also been wonder and adventure and hope that, with a little time, she’d have her favorite things to do and places to be, ones she could return to again and again and never tire. 

With solemnity, Mel said, “Love happens differently every time. How and why I fell in love with Jada is not the same as how and why I fell in love with Niko. They’re different people, and I changed in between too.”

Macy asked herself what her relationship with Harry would be. The answer came instantly: a library. Not a modern one built of sharp angles of glass and steel, touting its banks of computers - no, a proper library with cathedral-esque arches, rows upon rows of wooden shelves packed to bursting with books and yet everything organized, solid tables with lamps for studying and comfy armchairs tucked into secret nooks where one could bury oneself in a book and forget about the world.

“You’re right,” Macy admitted. “It is different. Maybe that’s part of why I’ve been struggling.”

“And?” nudged Maggie. 

“And I need to think about it.”

“Then you should do that. Figure out what’s best for _you_, first and foremost,” said Mel. “Then talk to Harry.”

Maggie jumped in, “Tell him what you’re feeling and what you want - and give him the phone number - and let him choose what’s right for him. Whatever happens, you have our support.”

“One hundred percent,” declared Mel. 

“So you’d be okay if Harry and I…”

“For sure,” said Maggie, nodding vigorously. 

“Yes, absolutely,” replied Mel with a smile. 

Maggie scooted closer to Macy until she could throw her arms about Macy’s neck in an awkward hug. “We’ll go now, let you think.”

She released Macy and scrambled off the bed as Mel stood up. 

“But we’re here if you need us,” said Mel. Her hug was less awkward by virtue of not half-strangling Macy. 

After her sisters had left, Macy restarted _Heaven’s Vice_. It was lucky she knew the episodes by heart because, while her eyes were focused on the screen, she saw very little of it and failed to notice when one episode rolled into the next. 

She fell asleep before she stopped thinking, _Heaven’s Vice_ murmuring away in the background. 

* * *

Macy ambled downstairs the next morning. Naori’s card tucked into a pocket of her turquoise sweater dress, long-sleeved with chevron stockings and ankle boots against the cold. 

She was still mulling over exactly how to approach Harry when she entered the kitchen. She stopped short at the sight of Harry carefully pouring an egg mixture into tart pastry shells. 

“Good morning, Macy,” he greeted her, glancing up briefly but then continuing his work. 

“Ah, hi,” squeaked Macy. 

When she made no move to come in, Harry stopped pouring and looked up again. He reminded her, “Mel and I have that meeting with the dryad conclave at nine?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Need caffeine.” Macy became cognizant of the coffee and bacon aroma, realizing she’d been too preoccupied before to put the pieces together to realize Harry must be in the kitchen. 

“Pot’s already made,” Harry informed her, refocusing on the tarts. He finished the last two and sprinkled chopped chives on all eight. A second tray of quiches was off to one side, a cutting board with remnants of Maggie’s vegan sausage beside it. 

“Thanks,” said Macy. From the cupboard, she grabbed her favorite mug and filled it, then added a teaspoon of sugar. She leaned against the counter, stirring, as Harry moved about the kitchen. He checked the oven, then slid in the trays. 

Harry had his sleeves rolled up, to keep them tidy while cooking no doubt, but there was no reason that should attract her attention and yet they did. So did the apron which had been Mel’s Christmas gift to him, royal blue with “It’s not a mess. It’s informal.” in a white, flowing script. 

Naori’s card burned in her pocket. 

He’d made coffee he didn’t drink and sausage he thought ridiculous and food Mel would claim was pretentious but secretly loved.

For a split second, Macy wondered what it would be like _not_ to have him here, so obviously comfortable in the space and so much a part of their family. Because he’d become part of another family. 

The very idea ached. 

If they kept ignoring their feelings, kept pretending they didn’t exist, then each of them would eventually move on. They would both probably fall in love again, become someone else’s partner, and that would be okay.

And maybe that would happen anyways. 

Her decision crystallizing, Macy nodded to herself and planted herself across the island from Harry. He had the mixing bowl in hand, about to dump it in the sink for washing. 

“Harry, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” she said. 

Her tone must have told him it was serious because he set the mixing bowl back down. 

He asked, “What is it?”

“You remember the Morningstar holiday party you went to with me?” 

“Of course.” He looked confused. 

“Do you remember meeting Dr. Fukuhara?”

His brow crinkled further. “Has two dogs? With the blue?” He gestured to his hair. 

“That’s her.” Drawing the card from her pocket, Macy fidgeted with it. “She had lunch with me yesterday. She said that she’d really enjoyed meeting you and she asked if I could give you her number so you could call her if you wanted and maybe, um, go on a date. So I... I said yes, and here it is, but -”

Macy gulped, huffed out a breath, and forged ahead. “But I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to?” repeated Harry slowly, his eyes wide. 

“No, I don’t because...because I want you to go on a date with me. Instead.” Macy clutched at the card. She started to babble, “I know I might be months too late and I know what we said but I really - I don’t want to keep ignoring - and if your - if your feelings have changed and you want to call Naori, that’s fine, it really is, but if they haven’t -”

“Macy.” He waited until she was looking at him. “My feelings haven’t changed and you’re not too late. I would -”

This time, it was Harry who needed to take a deep breath. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

They gazed at each other for a long moment, smiles growing until they were grinning rather stupidly at one another. 

Macy came to first. She held up the card. “I suppose I should probably give this back to Naori then.”

“If you think it would be better coming from me?” Harry offered. “I could -”

“No, if it were me, I wouldn’t want to get a call only to say no, no matter how kindly delivered,” Macy said. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Please tell her she’s a lovely person and I was very flattered,” said Harry. 

“I will.” Macy’s face contorted as if she was trying to be serious, but she couldn’t suppress her smile. “I feel like I should be feeling sorry for Naori, but I just can’t.”

“I know. Me too,” Harry admitted. “Do you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been asked out before.”

Macy drifted round the island, coming to a stop within a few inches of Harry. 

“Really? Never?”

“Not that I can remember.” His voice turned playful. “I rather like it.”

“Good.” 

After a beat more of gazing, Harry asked softly, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Yes,” Macy replied, her heartbeat kicking up a notch. She leaned in as he did.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, but brief. When Harry began to pull away, Macy laid a hand on his chest and the other at his waist. She stepped in closer until there was only a sliver of space between them. 

“Harry, can I kiss you?”

“Please.” 

Macy kept the kiss gentle but prolonged it. She sighed into it, contentedly, when Harry rested his hands on her waist. 

It was easy to stay like that, trading kisses. 

The blare of the kitchen timer caused them to start. Macy swore and Harry chuckled at it. 

“Sorry, but I have to check or they’ll overcook,” he said. 

Macy grumbled, “So let them.”

“Then what will we have for breakfast?” Harry asked yet didn’t move, his words brushing her cheek. 

“Cereal.”

“Only if you want to explain to your sisters why they’re eating cereal and not quiche.”

“Fine,” she consented and let him go. 

Macy located and reclaimed her coffee. While no longer hot, it was still warm enough to be palatable. 

Lips still curved into a smile, she sipped it as Harry decided the quiches were in fact ready to come out. 

Once out, he transferred the quiches from the trays to wire cooling racks. He almost dropped one when he happened to glance up, spied her watching him, and apparently got distracted. Macy covered her smirk with her cup. 

Following pattering on the stairs, Maggie sashayed into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Harry, good morning Macy,” she caroled. “Oh! Quiche!”

She darted for the quiches. Harry blocked her with his body. 

“They need to cool for another -” He consulted the oven clock. “-Seven minutes.” 

Maggie pouted. Harry stood firm. 

With a groan, Maggie headed for the coffee maker instead. “Alright. I’ll wait.”

Having retrieved a mug, she squinted at first Macy, then Harry. 

“You two are awfully happy-looking this morning,” she observed. With a significant look at Macy, she demanded, “Is there something going on?”

Before she could help herself, Macy blurted, “Harry and I are going on a date.” 

With a squeal, Maggie dropped the mug onto the counter. Maggie flung herself at Macy and hugged her sister. 

A blink later, she released Macy and latched onto Harry instead. 

Upon releasing Harry, Maggie capered back to her mug. She exclaimed, “This is great! I can’t wait to tell Mel. I’m so glad things worked out like this.”

Macy raised a brow. “I thought the two of you would support me no matter which way I decided?”

“Oh we would have - will - but - well, we were kind of shipping it.” Maggie declared, “I’m going to go tell Mel.” 

She flew from the kitchen and pounded up the stairs. 

“Shipping it?” echoed Harry. 

“I’ll explain later,” Macy promised him. From above their heads, they heard a door slam and Mel’s it’s-too-damn-early shout. 

“At least now I don’t have to wake her up,” said Harry wryly. “And I know what shipping means.”

“Are you okay with them knowing? I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that but they’re my sisters and I probably would have told them soon anyways,” Maggie said. “Might have waited until after the first date though.”

“It’s okay.” Harry pulled a fruit salad from the fridge. “I wouldn’t have expected you to keep this from them, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to. It doesn’t seem like either of them will have a problem with it, which I admit is something of a relief.”

Macy began to grab plates from a cabinet. She asked, “You thought they wouldn’t approve?”

“I didn’t know, and the last thing I would want is to be a source of dissension between the three of you,” Harry replied. Having located a serving spoon, he stuck it in the fruit salad and placed the salad on the table. He asked, “Do you think we need anything else?”

With a shake of her head, Macy replied, “No, I think fruit and quiche is enough.” 

They finished setting the table as Maggie returned, Mel shambling in behind her in pajamas with a grumpy expression. 

After confirming to Mel that they were indeed going on a date, the conversation soon shifted to more general inquiries about everyone’s plans for the day. 

Mel and Maggie opted not to remark on the fact that neither Harry nor Macy stopped smiling for the whole of breakfast. 


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of days later, the three sisters were gathered in the living room after dinner. Maggie lay on the rug, laptop and textbooks scattered around her, while Mel was on the sofa with a novel and Macy was tucked into an armchair with her tablet. 

Macy flicked the tablet screen, scrolling and scrolling through the Google search results. Nothing jumped out at her. 

She sighed and said, “I may need some help.”

“With what?” asked Mel. 

“I can’t think of what to do for my date with Harry,” Macy admitted. 

“Why don’t you see what Harry wants to do?” suggested Maggie. 

“Because I asked him,” said Macy. “So it’s my job to plan it and I’ve never done that before.”

Mel and Maggie gave her disbelieving looks. Mel said, “You’ve never asked a guy out?”

Maggie added, “Yeah, what about Galvin - didn’t you call him up?”

“Only after he asked me and we kept having things get in the way,” Macy reminded them. “And, besides it’s not the same.”

“How so?” asked Maggie, beating Mel to it.

“I guess I have asked guys out, but it was always - let’s grab coffee, how about a drink, want to get lunch before organic chemistry - the casual get to know you sort of date,” said Macy with a shrug. “This doesn’t feel the same. It feels _more_...I’m not sure how to explain it. Besides, Harry told me he’d never been the one to be asked out and I kind of want to make it something memorable.” 

“That’s tots adorable,” Maggie declared with doe-eyes. Mel snorted. With a glare at Mel, Maggie continued, “So you want it to be special.”

“Yes. It can’t be _just _coffee or _just _dinner and a movie,” Macy said. “Those are things we do anyways.”

“With us,” Mel reminded her. 

“Still,” said Macy. “I’d like it to be different.”

“Alright, so let’s think of something you’ll both enjoy,” Maggie said. “To start: low-key or fancy?”

“Low-key-ish?” ventured Macy. “I don’t want anything too fancy, too much pressure.”

“No to dinner, so I’m guessing no to lunch too,” Maggie mused, idly playing with her highlighter. “Do you want to be doing something active or would you rather something more passive like going to a show?”

“Not a show, I want to have something to do but something we can talk during.”

“Okay, no skydiving, got it,” Mel said with a grin. 

“What about a museum?” asked Maggie.

“Isn’t the history museum doing some sort of interactive exhibit on the space program?” Mel asked, frowning as she tried to remember. “With a special late night on Fridays?”

Macy nodded, then sighed. “Harry already went. Two weeks ago. He was excited to see the spacesuits from the Apollo missions.”

“Well, okay, what else?” said Mel.

“Wait a minute…” Maggie drawled, levering herself into an upright seated position. “Macy, didn’t Harry tell us about going ice skating along the canals of - oh, what was it - around Christmas -”

“Amsterdam? I think?” 

“Yes, yes, he was saying how pretty it was, with everything dressed up for the holidays.” Maggie’s eyes sparkled. “It seemed like he’d enjoyed it a lot.”

“And this helps how?” 

“There’s an outdoor ice rink about twenty minutes from here,” Maggie informed her older sister. “You can rent skates, and there’s hot cider and cocoa, and there’s usually fire pits - you can bring your own stuff to make s’mores - and they take down the Christmas stuff after New Year’s but they keep the lights in the trees.”

Mel made an approving noise. “It’s actually pretty nice. Mom used to take us.”

Maggie asked Macy, “Do you know how to ice skate?”

“I do, enough to make it around without falling at least,” Macy said as she thought the proposal over. Slowly, she said, “It sounds good. I’ll look it up.”

Maggie beamed and flopped back down to her homework. “See, problem solved.” 

The two Veras returned to their previous occupations while Macy typed in a new search query and hit enter. 

* * *

On Saturday, the doorbell rang, and Macy cursed under her breath. Hopping up, she hastened to the front door. 

Opening it, she said, “Come in, Harry.”

“Hello, Macy,” he replied, smiling. 

He was barely across the threshold when the laptop chimed, and she was dashing back to the kitchen. 

“Sorry, I thought I had enough time - the program’s running slower than I expected - and if I don’t let it finish now, I’ll have to start all over,” Macy called as she went. 

She heard Harry close the door. He followed her to the kitchen. 

“That’s alright,” he said. “Finish what you need to.”

“Thanks.” Macy promised, “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

She made a few adjustments, then initiated the data compile. She watched until the percentage began to tick upwards before looking at Harry.

It was always strange to see him in something other than a suit. Dark-wash jeans, sturdy boots, lilac sweater, and an all-weather coat showed he’d taken her seriously when she’d warned him that they’d be spending time outdoors. She was similarly dressed, trading lilac for a scoop neck pumpkin. 

His outfit pushed aside science, and Macy was abruptly acutely aware that he was here so they could go on a date. 

“Hi,” she breathed. 

“Hi,” Harry replied. He gestured at his outfit. “I hope this is acceptable. Especially since you won’t tell me where we’re going.”

As if magnetically drawn, Macy found herself reaching out to lightly touch his sweater. “It’s perfect.”

“Good.” 

Her hands lingered. The wool was soft and warm, rising and falling as he breathed. 

She leaned in, tilting her head, and was pleased when Harry took the hint and met her lips halfway. 

After a couple of kisses, Harry drew back and asked worriedly, “Your sisters aren’t around, are they? They’re not going to pop out at us?”

Shaking her head, Macy reassured him, “No, I told them to clear out. Maggie’s at a study session and Mel had some errands to run.” 

“Wonderful,” Harry replied and kissed her again. 

They whiled away the rest of the time her program needed. When it finished, Macy hit save and seized her puffy coat from the chair back. 

She shrugged into it, then grabbed her purse. “Ready?”

“Lead on,” said Harry.

The first minute or two of the drive was awkward. Maybe because he already spent so much time there, kissing him at home had felt natural while sitting in the same car, driving to a date, was weird. Macy moved her hands restlessly around the steering wheel, trying to think of something to say. 

She ended up with, “How was the rest of your week?” and internally cringed at the lameness. 

“Fairly uneventful. One of my TAs is sick so I had an extra office hours to cover,” replied Harry. “What about yours? Were you able to finish the review on that report?”

“I was. Alice is working on the revisions. I’ll check it over once more before she submits it,” Macy said. She bit her lip, then asked, “Is it just me or is this a bit…”

“Odd,” finished Harry. “Maybe a little but I hope that we’ll get better at it.” 

His smile was a quarter-teasing and three quarters-sincere.

“We will,” said Macy. With her own grin, she added, “At least we don’t have to do the whole first date where-do-you-work-do-you-have-siblings-are-you-a-weirdo thing.”

“Very true. Although I’m not sure if I want to know what _you_ think is the answer to the third.”

Macy snickered. “Harry, I think we _both_ qualify for that one.”

“Quite possibly,” he replied. “Speaking of weird, why on earth is Maggie trying to learn how to tap dance?”

Awkwardness dispersed, Macy explained about Maggie’s sorority’s No Talent Show and the conversation flowed nicely for the rest of the ride.

After parking, Macy directed them down a side path, away from the playground and empty basketball court. Most everything was in shades of whites and greys, snow dusting the ground but the pathways thoroughly de-iced. 

The trees opened up to reveal either a large pond or small lake. Several structures sat on the edge, surrounded by benches and tables. Signs advertised rentals and hot drinks. Off to the right, split-log benches bordered multiple fire pits. 

Macy began, “I know it’s not Amsterdam -” 

“I can’t believe you remembered,” interrupted Harry. He squeezed her hand. “I haven’t been ice skating in years. This is wonderful.”

He practically glowed with excitement. Macy tugged on his hand, saying, “Let’s go get some skates then.” 

Skates on and belongings in a rented locker, they ventured onto the ice. It took a few minutes for them to remember how this worked, but they were soon gliding amongst the crowd. 

Chatter and laughter surrounded them as families and friends enjoyed the winter afternoon. Any sense of cold vanished, replaced by the invigorating whip of the wind on her cheeks and the whisk of the ice at every step. 

Whenever she looked at Harry beside her, he was smiling, eyes bright. 

As they skated, they talked. Macy found herself telling Harry about the hikes and stargazing her father had taken her on as a child; Harry shared stories about the places he’d lived all around the world. 

Eventually, Macy’s legs started to tire. She slowed and Harry slowed with her. 

“I think I might have reached my skating limit for today,” she said regretfully. She tipped her head at the drink booths. “Time for something hot?”

“Good idea,” Harry replied. They retrieved their belongings and exchanged skates for boots.

“If you return the skates, I’ll get the drinks,” Macy suggested. “Hot chocolate or hot cider?”

“Cider please,” said Harry, reaching out for Macy’s skates. “With whipped cream and caramel if they have it.”

“Got it.” 

As she stood in the short queue, Macy tugged her zipper a little higher on her throat. Now that she wasn’t moving, the wind cut deeper. 

Macy had just ordered his cider and her hot chocolate with cinnamon when Harry rejoined her. He slid his hand into hers, and Macy leaned against him. 

A second later, she realized the wind had diminished. A second after that, she realized it was because Harry had oriented himself so he was shielding her from the wind. 

Mel would have snapped at him. Macy only felt a rush of affection. She doubted it was even a fully conscious decision on his part.

“Number 52?” called the server. He placed two cups on the ledge. 

“That’s us,” Macy said.

They collected their drinks, then Macy led them towards one of the firepits a little way off. They snagged one of the benches. Macy tucked herself into his side. 

Harry’s arm went around her. “In case it’s not apparent, I’m having a very good time.” 

“Me too,” Macy replied. 

For a while, they simply sat and sipped, watching the fire. 

That ability to be together but to be quiet was something Macy had always appreciated about their relationship. She loved her sisters, she really did, but their energy could be exhausting at times.

Harry had a way of being present, but not demanding attention. He took no offense if she wanted to read while he graded papers at the other end of the kitchen table. Likewise, she could count on him joining her in watching a show or movie, but possibly also occupying himself with online Scrabble if he wasn’t particularly interested in it. 

It was nice to be with someone and just breathe. 

She finished her hot chocolate, removing the lid and upending the cup to get that last few drops.

“That good?” Harry asked. 

“Never waste good chocolate,” Macy replied. “How’s yours?”

“Quite tasty, thank you,” he said. “I’ve always thought that winter has best drinks.”

“How so?”

“Well, hot cocoa and hot cider, tea of course, mulled wine, hot toddies, not to mention the additives - mint, caramel, anything sugary, spices, oranges - and there’s something comforting about holding a warm mug in your hands when it’s freezing outside,” he explained. 

“Is winter your favorite season then?” 

“Second favorite,” Harry said. “Spring is my favorite.” 

Macy considered this, then nodded. “I can see that. Winter is mine.”

“Any particular reasons why?”

“Honestly?” 

Harry made an encouraging mhm.

“I like the snow and - when it’s not underfoot - the ice. If you look at ice crystals under the microscope, they’re beautiful, elegant.” She grinned, a bit slyly, and added, “And I don’t mind the cold, it’s a good excuse to stay in and read or binge-watch.”

“Rather than having to go out?” asked Harry in an approving sort of way.

“Yes, exactly.” She pulled away from him, just enough so she could kiss him lightly. “Although sometimes, going out is worth it. That Christmas party for example.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Harry returned her kiss in kind. His eyes flicked skyward where the afternoon sun was beginning to show signs of fading. 

He suggested, “What about a walk while we still have the light?” 

“Sure,” Macy agreed. As she stood, she stretched, getting rid of the slight stiffness from sitting on a log. 

Harry tossed both of their cups into a nearby recycling bin before he held out a hand. Eagerly, Macy took it, threading their fingers together. 

They picked a path that circled the pond. As they walked, they watched the skaters, pointing out particularly good ones to each other and oohing sympathetically at the occasional butt meeting ice. They stopped for a few minutes at the far end to watch the pick-up hockey game before continuing on.

By the time they’d made the circuit, the ice had begun to empty. The shadows were lengthening, sun down behind the trees. They ambled back towards the parking lot.

As they were getting into the car, Harry asked, “What are your plans for dinner?” 

“I don’t know. Mel’s got a shift at The Haunt so she won’t be there,” Macy said. “Maggie and I will figure out something.”

“I know it’s a little early but what if we were to have dinner on the way back? We could bring home something for Maggie?” suggested Harry. 

Macy’s stomach rumbled. She said, “Alright, let’s do that. Did you have anything in mind?”

“It depends. Do you like Vietnamese?”

“I do.”

“Then I know a place. It’s about halfway between here and home.” 

Harry directed her to a converted two-bedroom house, tucked away on a side street. They managed to snag a parking space as someone else was leaving in the lot next door. It was otherwise full which Macy saw as a good sign, especially as it was barely five fifteen. 

“Harry! Good to see you!” exclaimed the hostess as they entered. She switched to Vietnamese, seeming to ask a question. 

Harry answered in the same language, asked a question of his own, and received a reply. 

Then he switched to English. “Suong, this is Macy. Macy, this is Suong, her family owns the restaurant.”

“Nice to meet you,” Macy said. 

“Nice to meet you too,” said Suong as she grabbed a couple of menus. She consulted the computer. “Booth okay?”

Macy and Harry nodded. Weaving between tables, they followed her to a booth near the kitchen doors. 

“Lana will be by soon to take your orders. Please enjoy,” Suong said before hastening away to greet the next group of customers. 

“You must come here often,” remarked Macy, opening her menu. The items were listed first in Vietnamese, English translations in smaller print underneath. 

“It’s one of my favorite places if I don’t feel like cooking,” Harry admitted. “So maybe a couple of times a month.”

“Any recommendations?”

“I’ve never had anything that wasn’t delicious, but I’m partial to the pho.” 

Macy caught sight of the soup at a table just behind them, broth steaming with an aroma that made her mouth water. 

“Sounds great,” she said.

“Harry, you brought a friend.” A young woman - seventeen or eighteen - approached their table, an apron tied around her waist with pad, pencil, and straws tucked in. 

“Lana, this is Macy. Macy, this is Lana, Suong’s daughter.” 

Lana wore an impish expression as she said, “Harry’s never brought anyone here before. You must be special.”

Harry flushed. “Yes, well, as a matter of fact, we’re - ah - on a date.”

“I see,” drawled Lana. “In that case, I’ll just take your orders and leave you in peace. Drinks first or do you already know what you want?”

“I think we already know,” replied Macy. They ordered and Lana whisked herself off, but not without a wink and a grin. 

Their food arrived promptly, and they dug in. After a couple of tries with the chopsticks, Macy swapped them out for a regular fork. Harry didn’t, using them with an ease Macy envied. 

When her initial hunger had been sated, her bites more leisurely, Macy asked him, “Did you have a Vietnamese charge?”

“No, most of my charges have been in the Americas or Europe, a couple in Australia.”

“Why’s that? Is it because of the language?” 

“Language isn’t the problem. It’s more cultural and,” Harry hesitated for a moment, “A Whitelighter isn’t supposed to stand out. Camouflage if you will.”

Macy sifted through the implications. “Because if you stand out, you’re an easier target?”

“Yes, and easier to track back to your charge.” 

“So you hide in plain sight.”

“As much as we can. It’s why all of us have normal jobs, preferably ones that allow us to come into contact with our charges without too much suspicion,” Harry explained. 

Macy’s eyes widened. “You being the head of Women’s Studies - it would be normal for you to meet with Mel and since I work at the university and Maggie goes there - and Tessa, she worked at the university too - is that why -”

“Partly, yes. Mel isn’t wrong about me not being the best person for the position, but I’m afraid it was rather a case of the Council’s...shall we say, pragmatism.” Harry frowned. “They took advantage of the situation.” 

“Seems like them,” Macy groused. 

“Yes. Very.” Taking a deep breath, Harry changed the subject. “Why were you asking if I’d had a charge who was Vietnamese?”

“You speak the language, I figured you must have learned it for a reason,” said Macy. 

“Ah, yes, that isn’t quite the case.” He sprinkled a few more sprouts into his bowl. “Whitelighters can speak - and read and write - any living language.”

“What? Really?” 

With a nod, Harry said, “As long as it’s still being spoken, and only human languages. Dead languages and those of other species, we have to learn.”

“That’s still pretty awesome,” Macy exclaimed. “Any language? At any time?”

“It’s easiest if we’re talking with someone who’s a native speaker. Sometimes, idioms or connotations of certain words can be challenging, but we’re generally able to make do.”

“So when my sisters switch to Spanish because they think you don’t understand it?” questioned Macy, the lilt to her voice betraying her glee.

Harry’s eyes crinkled, and his lips twitched. “You mean when they’re complaining about me?”

“Yep.” Macy grinned. “You’re not planning on telling them, are you?”

“I’m sure they’ll work it out. Eventually.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to ruin the surprise?”

“Nope, just try to make sure I’m there when they do. I want to see the looks on their faces,” Macy told him. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

They finished their meal, adding a to-go container of pho for Maggie and a box of what Harry translated as mango cakes for dessert. 

When they arrived home, Harry walked with her to the front door. Macy turned around to face him, the plastic handles of the takeout bag looped over one wrist. 

“So...um...this was a success, I think,” Macy ventured. 

“I would agree.” 

“Do you want to - should I -” Macy jerked a thumb at the door. “We could - tea?”

“Perhaps not tonight,” Harry replied. “Besides, I think Maggie is waiting for you.” 

He made a show of looking at the living room window. Macy glanced that way; the curtains swung suspiciously but no Maggie could be seen.

“Well, do I at least get a kiss goodnight?” Macy asked. Her free hand pinched at his coat. 

Harry cupped her cheek with one hand, the other coming to rest just below her shoulder blades and kissed her. 

His lips were still a little chapped from their excursion, but Macy couldn’t have cared less. She wrapped her arms around him, takeout bag nudging at his back. 

When their lips parted, Macy rested her forehead against his. 

“The student musical theater group is putting on _The Last Five Years_. The first show is next week.” Harry said. He drew back so their eyes met. “Would you like to go with me?”

“I’d love to.” 

“It’s a date, then.” 

Gradually disentangling themselves, they smiled at one another. 

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Macy.” With a spring in his step, he descended from the porch. Macy waited until he’d gotten into his car before waving goodbye and then trying the door. 

She was unsurprised when it was already unlocked. 

The takeout went on the side table, and she began taking off her outer layers. She called, “Maggie, you can come out now.” 

Shoulders sheepishly raised, Maggie rounded the corner into the entryway. “Soooo, how was it?”

“Good,” Macy replied, hanging up her coat. 

“Just good?” teased Maggie, playing it up by scrunching up her nose. “Good is like not good. Come on, Macy, really, how was it? Are we talking little sparks, big sparks, no sparks - I mean you didn’t invite him in - was it that bad -”

“Maggie!” Macy shoved her scarf into a basket. Bending over, she tugged at a boot zipper. “No, it wasn’t - it was really good, okay? We had a really good time. And we - it’s not like we were going to - not on a first date.”

Maggie singsonged, “Just saying…”

“Harry is a gentleman, and I - taking it slow is - I’m not ready to hop into bed with anyone just yet. Not even Harry,” said Macy. She slipped off her boots and tossed them into the closet. “But there were sparks. Definitely sparks.”

She thrust the food at Maggie. “Here, we brought you back dinner and there’s enough dessert for both of us, and for Mel to have some when she gets home.”

Maggie took the food, but she also wagged a finger in Macy’s face. “You think you’re going to distract me. It won’t work.” 

Catching Macy’s arm, Maggie steered her towards the kitchen. “I want allll the dets.” 

“Alright, alright,” Macy acquiesced. Her cheeks flushed and she felt the fizz of excitement at not only having something to share, but someone to share it with. “You win.”

Maggie grabbed a bowl and spoon, then dropped them and the food on the kitchen table. She plopped down and reached into the bag for the plastic cylinder of pho. 

“Good, start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out,” she commanded. 

Reaching for the mango cakes, Macy began her recounting. “When he got here, I was still working on the data analysis…”


End file.
